


Five Visits

by McCaggers



Category: Beware the Batman
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied Relationships, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McCaggers/pseuds/McCaggers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His first visit to her jail cell was a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Visits

I.

His first visit was a surprise. An unwelcome one. It had been Sunday. Not even a week had gone by since he locked her up. She was squirming in her skin. She took to scratching herself. Plucking off tiny nearly invisible hairs off her skin. Skin would come off in her black nails. Unfortunately, she was immune to any effects of curare embedded in her nail beds. Gone was her wig, her feathers. All that made her unique and special was taken.

 

“How’s Tweety bird?” The guards would say.

 

“Making herself molt” said another.

 

“Still?”

Magpie heard these exchanges. How could she not? Rage was boiling in her heart, head, her very being. She had managed to claw the last guard to bring her food. But he had warn protective gloves. They chained her up anyway, as a precaution. Every part of her ached. She closed her eyes. She imagined some far away nest. One made of diamonds and pearls. Her lips cracked as she smiled.

 

“Not enjoying your stay I take it?” A voice too smooth, too sleek to be one the guards entered her ears. Magpie froze, squeezing her eyes tight. _You’re not here. You can’t be!_ Against her will she opened her eyes.

 

“Hello Magpie.” There he was. The man who caged her, humiliated her, who reminded her of everything she had suffered. Well, everything Margaret Sorrow had suffered. In an insane fury she lunged at him. But the chains held tight. She screamed part in agony, part in frustration. The man in front of her said nothing. If he felt anything at the moment he didn’t show it.

 

“Get. Away. Or so help me—“

 

A hand encased in leather reached through the bars of her cell. A tuft of feathers, a silver wig fell to the dirt floor. Magpie’s legs collapsed beneath her. It was her feathers. HERS! What kind of bird would she be without her feathers?!

 

“I thought I’d return them to you. I don’t need them. They’re not laced with anything I wouldn’t want you to have.” Magpie’s world swam before her. The tears stinging her dry skin. There was a pause where neither party said anything. The bird crying silently on the floor and the bat staring right back no readable expression on his face. “I hope you stop hurting yourself, Magpie. This cell should be enough punishment.”

Without another word Batman vanished. There was no trace he had even been there.

 

II.

Batman did not return at least not right away. Magpie cursed herself every time she would hear the prison door creak open. She would screech. “FIX THE DAMN DOOR!”

 

“Easy, birdy. We’ll fix it. It’s not a top priority, alright?” It was late. Around 2:30 A.M. or so. The guards made the nightly rounds every hour on the half hour. Magpie had gotten used to it. Still, some part of her wondered if the bat would come in that door. The guard flashed a light into her cell. She had stopped scratching herself although not completely. There were scabs on her right arm and her legs. But her left arm for whatever reason looked fresh. She was quite sight. With her silver white wig and the feathered broach at her neck, she looked like a kid playing dress up. The white clashed horribly with the cruddy orange color of her jumpsuit.

 

Magpie glanced toward the silver keys on the guard’s belt. Her fingers itched. “Hey, guard. If you’re not going to fix the door could come here for a sec?” The guard ignored her walking past her to look at the other cells. “Aww, sweetie don’t be shy. I just want to look at your pretty face.” The guard continued to ignore her. Magpie began to lose patience. “Don’t ignore me you good for nothing—“ Her voice cut out. That guard was no guard.

 

“Nice to see you got your spirit back.” Batman said coolly. He was adjusting his cowl. How had she not noticed? She could have sworn she looked at his face. And yet she had been so preoccupied by the keys she hadn’t fully registered it. Batman took off the guard’s cap and jumpsuit. He never took off his bat suit even when he was in disguise.

“What the hell is your deal, huh?” The caged bird demanded. She looked livid.

 

“I beg your pardon?”

 

“Why are you checking up on me, huh? You made it impossible for this bird to break free. Believe me I’ve tried!” Magpie was gripping the bars so intensely her hands were turning white.

 

“I make a point of ensuring criminals I lock up stay that way.” He tilted his head just an inch. “Why are you still scratching yourself?” Magpie looked at her left arm. Her face began to burn.

 

“What’s it to you, Bats? Not getting concerned about me, are you? She tries to hide her embarrassment with flirtation. Batman’s jaw, the only part of him she can really see other than his eyes in the dark, clenches.

 

“I’ll tell the guards about it. Good night.” He walks towards the door as if he had not seen her or spoke to her at all.

 

“Wait!” Magpie flings out an arm without thinking. He stops. But doesn’t turn his head. Magpie takes a moment to take him in. His outline is all she can see. His shoulders are straight as can be. His hands, which she imagines are calloused and rough beneath leather gloves, are balled into fists. “Come again. I-I might slip out. You don’t know what I got under these wings.” She swears he nods in reply.

 

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” Magpie coos. She is lying on her back on cot, her feet up in the air. She hadn’t even turned around to look at her visitor. She knows the motions by now. He’ll come in the dead of night or early morning when the stars are the brightest. He’ll come in silently, expertly. But Magpie can sense him, smell him even.

 

“The guards say you’ve been good.” Batman always talks like this. In single sentences having nothing to do with the previous topic. She flirts with him. Calls him baby, sweetie. But he doesn’t reply. Sometimes she imagines him alone, in whatever hole he crawls into during the day, his face reddening with embarrassment. He’s falling for her. She knows it, in her bones. Why else would he stop by so often?

 

“I’m always good. Magpie is learning her lesson.” She leans her head back. He’s staring at her in a way he hasn’t before. Like there is something at the tip of his tongue. “Got something to say? Might as well say it while you got my attention.” He never takes is eyes off her.

 

“Margaret.” In a rush Magpie throws herself against the bars of the cell. Batman does not flinch but he stares right past her. As if there was something else he was looking for.

 

“She’s dead. I told you.” Her voice is venom. It burrows its way into Batman’s ears, burning.

 

“I don’t believe that.” Magpie swears he’s faltering, becoming weaker.

 

“Are those pointy ears of yours working?!” Batman walks closer to her. He’s never done that before. He towers over her. Feeling threatened she pulls back arm ready to claw, scratch, anything to get him to back off.

 

“Margaret. You’re in there. I know it.” Magpie’s hand is shaking as she grips the bars. He places a hand on hers. It scares her. This touch. It’s a human touch. She had forgotten what it’s like. “I’m not giving up. I can’t.” Magpie feels layers of herself peel off.

 

III.

She remembers her domineering mother and her pearls. She remembers her mother’s kiss on her cheek before she went to sleep. The smell of ash and perfume washing over her. She remembers her foolish father and his wet forehead kisses.

 

“I want that damn necklace, Howard! You promised me I could have it. Do you want me to suffer is that it? Do you like to see unhappy? Is that it?” Eight year old Margaret Sorrow, or Maggie as she was known in these days, watches from doorframe. She wonders if her dad is going to cry. He’s often crying these days. He lost his job at morgue, for stealing trinkets. How can he pay for all his missus requires with no job?

 

“What have you got to say for yourself, hmm?”

 

There’s a flash. A new memory. The smoke clears and Maggie is holding her mother’s hand. They are leaving Gotham’s most expensive jewelry story. Her father stole some money from some hapless tourist. Unfortunately, for Howard what he stole wasn’t enough to buy the pearls her mother wanted. “You good for nothing dope. Why’d do I put up with you?”  Maggie looks up at her mother, she got a nice silver necklace instead. Maggie loves it. It’s far better than pearls. She has to urge to reach up and grab it.

 

“I’m sorry, Lucy. The cops are already wary of me as is.”

 

“But you couldn’t steal fifteen more dollars? Honestly, if you’re gonna be criminal be a good one. Sheesh.”  Maggie slips from her mother’s warm hands when something catches her eyes. Shapes in a dark alley. Yellow tape blocks most of the scene. But Margaret is short enough to see under the tape. Two bodies, dressed in fine clothes like caked in blood. Right beneath a woman’s well-manicured hand is a pearl necklace. Just like the one her mother was looking at. While her parents are occupied she runs past the yellow tape.

 

“Hey! Young lady get away from there!” A man in blue calls out to her. She doesn’t hear him. All she sees are the pearls. With a firm hand she yanks the pearls out of the dead lady’s hand. The white orbs have stains on them. Brown, red, and white swim before her vision. It is then Maggie sees the faces of the bodies. Her stomach empties instantly. Two men in blue reach to pick her up and her mother in a new fur coat grips at her shoulders.

 

“I’m so sorry officers. Little Margaret is always getting into things she shouldn’t. Terribly sorry!” As her mother pulls away she sees a boy her age. He’s sitting in the back of ambulance. He had dark hair and blue eyes. He watched her take the pearls. She looks in his eyes. They are empty of anything. No anger, no sadness, just nothing. His shirtfront has the same mix of brown and red as the pearls. Little Maggie feels her heart break. Why was there nothing in his eyes? What sort of terrible things could have happened? It dawns on her that those are his parents. He watched her steal from their dead bodies. He watched her vomit all over them. She feels like she’s going to be sick again. Quickly, she dodges her mother once more. “Margaret!”

Maggie stands in front of the boy. He doesn’t’ seem to her or anyone. She looks down in her grubby hands and sees the pearls. Without thinking she grabs the boy’s hand. Tears instantly come with one shaky whimper. Margaret drops the dirty pearls in his hand. “I’m sorry about what happened to your parents. And I’m sorry I took the pearls.” With shaking fingers they close around the pearls. The boy whimpers again and pulls the closed fist to his chest. His sobs are wracking his body now.

 

“Margaret Sorrow! Leave that boy alone!” 

 

Flash back to present. Margaret Sorrow is in prison. She’s a convicted thief and liar. For some reason the leathered hand on hers is suddenly familiar. And yet very different. The prison door slams open.

 

“Batman! Your partner called there’s a robbery on Jewel St.” Batman drops his hand. He gives Margaret one quick glance before sprinting off down the prison hallway leaving the guard in his wake. “Hey, tweety bird. You okay?” And like that Margaret Sorrow is gone again. Just like that.

 

“Magpie! How hard is that to remember?”

 

“Whatever. Night little birdy.” The prison door slams again. As Magpie sits in the stillness she can’t help but wonder, partner? Did he say partner?

 

IV.

Batman does not come back for several weeks. Magpie is in a state. She begins to ask for newspaper clippings. They give them to her. She tears through it looking for any pictures of her new friend. There! On page ten! He looks magnificent. Every day she asks for the paper. She can be found cradling images of Batman in her hands. The guards don’t care to notice. Likewise Magpie did not hear them talk about a young woman seen with Batman in recent days…

 

V.

Magpie hears the guards, and the heavy footsteps of her former cellmate Lunkhead.

 

“Lunkhead sorry! Lunkhead really, really sorry!”

 

“Sorry, bud better luck next time.” Says a guard. Magpie turns to see Batman. He doesn’t see her.

 

“Batman! Batman!” She waves frantically. Batman looks in her direction. Its odd seeing him daylight. He turns to the guard.

 

“Excuse me.” He walks towards her, head held high. “Hello, Magpie. How are you?”

 

“Fine, Batman, just fine. Where have you been I’ve missed you!” Batman opens to reply when a woman appears at his side. The woman is slender with hip length dark hair and a tiny elegant mouth.

 

“We have to go. Lieutenant Gordon has something for us.” Magpie looks on stunned by the familiarity. Stunned by the gall of her to give her man orders. Ridiculous. Batman gives her a quick glance then turns back to Magpie.

 

“I must be off. It was good seeing you again.” He turns and follows the girl out. What? What in the hell? No way. I won’t lose. I won’t lose him. I can’t!

 

“Guard! Who was that? Tell me!” The guard who is finishing up locking up Lunkhead turns to her.

 

“Who? Oh, Katanna? She’s Batman’s partner. They make quite a team.” Partner? What could he need a partner for? I’ll show him. He doesn’t need her. He needs me. ME. I don’t care if I have to kill her to get to him.

 

Magpie sits down in her nest and thinks. Don’t worry my love. I’ll free you of this witch soon enough.

 

 


End file.
